Husband (Betrothed 2) - Page 62

I ordered a drink and sat alone.

The sound of a man grunting reached my ears, accompanied by the gentle cry of the woman he’d paid for. Some would call this a brothel, but that wouldn’t be fitting. These weren’t free women who chose to be prostitutes for a living. They were women who had been kidnapped and forced into sexual servitude. They would be used until they were damaged. Then they would be killed.

I was ashamed to call this man my brother.

Faced with the disturbing reality, I didn’t feel guilty for murdering my own father. His crimes were far worse than mine.

I drank from the glass and waited for my brother to appear. He may not be there at all, and I’d have to return on a different night. Or maybe he was in one of those rooms… The thought was disgusting.

One of the men walked up to me, suspicious by my isolation. I hadn’t offered to buy a woman, so I could just drink upstairs. It made me look like one of the police. If you didn’t commit the crime like everyone else, you looked guilty of something else.

“I’ve got a couple of girls available. Want to take a look?”

My wedding ring was still on my hand, but that didn’t mean anything. Married men visited this place all the time. “I’m here to see Ash.”

His body tightened as he felt threatened. “What’s your business with him?”

“I’m his brother—that’s my business. Now, go get him.”

The man obeyed and disappeared into the hallway.

Now that I’d witnessed all of these horrors with my own eyes, I didn’t want my brother’s forgiveness. I did the world a service, and if I wanted to make the world an even better place, I would kill him too. My stomach filled with acid, and my chest tightened in disgust. If Sofia weren’t the most important thing to me, I wouldn’t bother with this bullshit. I was about to make amends with the most despicable guy on the planet.

Ash emerged from the hallway. He stopped once he was in my line of sight, staring at me with eyes that resembled magnifying glasses. The longer he absorbed my appearance, the harder he breathed. His hands formed fists until his knuckles turned white, and all the hatred he felt five years ago visibly returned in full force.

Shit.

He walked over to me, his powerful arms hanging by his sides as his sculpted shoulders remained rigid. His lips were pressed together tightly, and his eyes were clouded with a shade of violence. He shared similar features that we’d inherited from our parents, dark brown hair, deep brown eyes, and a rugged jawline that belonged in film. We both possessed the kind of dick the ladies wanted.

He reached into the back of his jeans and pulled out his pistol. He cocked the gun and aimed it right at my forehead.

I didn’t flinch. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

He kept the gun steady in my face. “If you didn’t want a soap opera, you shouldn’t have come here.”

I raised my hands slightly in the air, showing him I didn’t have a gun. “Alright…a little drama is entertaining. But let’s cut to a commercial break and calm the fuck down.” I lowered my hands again. “I’m alone and unarmed. Just want to talk.”

He didn’t lower his gun. “I guess we could talk about your funeral arrangements.”

I drank from my glass until it was empty. “If you were going to kill me, you would have hunted me down a long time ago. Cut the shit and take a seat.”

“You don’t know me, asshole.”

“I’m your brother—I don’t have to know you.” I kicked the chair across from me so it slid away from the table.

“That didn’t stop you from killing our father.” He shoved his gun back into his jeans and fell into the chair. He was a few years older than me, approaching his midthirties with spectacular physicality. He kept in shape, kept his body tight.

A smartass comment came to mind, but I kept it back. My objective was to receive forgiveness. If I spoke my mind, I would only infuriate him even more. “It’s haunted me for a long time. My soul split in two that day… It’s never been the same.” It wasn’t a false speech to gain his pity. It’d been a weight on my shoulders every single day. I struggled to combat the guilt and the relief of my actions.

Ash was still livid. “I remember when you shot him. I remember the look on your face. There was no guilt there, no goddamn hesitation.”

“Then you must not have seen my face afterward.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and slouched slightly in the chair. His men stared at our interaction from their place at the bar, ready to come to his side if he snapped his fingers. “What the fuck do you want, Hades?”

Tags: Penelope Sky Betrothed Billionaire Romance
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